


Marked on the Heart

by slytherin1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherin1/pseuds/slytherin1
Summary: AU where everytime you fall in love, the person's first initial appears on your right wrist. Draco's wrist is clean, knowing he'll never get one, until he wakes up one morning to find one on him. And he knows exactly who gave it to him.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by an AU where your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. I've tweaked it a bit and made it my own.

 

No one knew why Muggles didn't get them, or why they showed up in the first place, but every witch and wizard in Britain knew about them. 

Witches were often heard giggling and gossiping about who's wrist had what and who's didn't. Magazines and tabloids feautured stories almost every week of scandals and divorces because somebody's spouse suddenly had a new mark on their wrist. Shops had even started selling robes with both longer and shorter sleeves.

They didn't have an official name. Some called them Marks, others Letters, and people like Draco Malfoy called them a curse. 

His father had always taught him to suppress his emotions. He said that emotions only caused more problems than they solved, and the only way to be successful in this world was to cut yourself off from them completely. 

His mother saw things differently. One night when Draco was ten, her nightgown sleeves had ridden up, exposing her pale skin. He glanced at her wrist and saw a collection of small, red letters. 

"Mummy," he had asked, pointing, "what are those?"

Narcissa smiled faintly. "They're called Marks, dearest."

"What do they do?"

"They don't do anything. They show up on your skin when you're in love. The first letter of that person."

Draco saw an L for Lucius, an R, and an S. He didn't ask who's names they were, because it didn't matter to him. He was more curious about his own wrist. 

"Will I ever get one?" He asked.

Narcissa kissed his forehead and tucked his blankets under his chin. "You'll get yours eventually. Goodnight, dear. Sweet dreams."

 

•••

 

A few days later, Draco made the mistake of asking his father how many marks he had over breakfast. 

Lucius, his grey eyes cold, had said, "Only one. For your mother, of course." 

Being too young to understand when to hold his tongue, Draco asked why he didn't have more like Mum did. 

"Because I've protected myself," he snapped. "Love does more harm than good. It clouds the mind and blinds people. It drives them mad and breaks them to the point of death. One day you will understand."

 

•••

 

Draco was thirteen, and he noticed that his parents had started inviting Astoria and her parents round for dinner and tea more often. He knew immediately that it was because they had deemed her suitable for Draco to court, marry, and produce an heir to the Malfoy name. 

As they chatted outside, Draco kept rubbing his wrist, confused as to why a red A hadn't appeared yet. He had seen his initial on Astoria's; he knew how she felt.

Draco willed the Mark to appear on his wrist, to not let his family down and dissappoint his father or hurt Astoria. He wanted to like her, even tried flirting with her to trick his heart, but it was no use. It never showed up. 

He made the mistake of rolling his sleeves up one particularly hot afternoon outside. Astoria's eyes darted to look at his forearm. Her face fell, crestfallen, as she realised Draco didn't share her feelings. She scooted her chair away, and Lucius frowned.

 

•••

 

At age sixteen, Draco had come out as gay to his mother and Astoria. Narcissa said her love for him would never change, no matter what, but that he couldn't tell Lucius, at least not until he had a son or daughter. 

Astoria's love for Draco had gone from romantic to friendship weeks after his coming out, and instead of flirting, they talked about their parents, issues, and school. 

Astoria told him about a boy she was seeing (his initial had yet to show up next to Draco's) and asked if Draco had his eye on anyone. 

"There is one," he had said. "I don't fancy him or anything, but he is good looking and smart." 

"Friend of yours?"

Draco laughed and shook his head. "Merlin, no. We're kind of enemies, actually. Father would murder me if he knew."

Astoria squeezed his hand. "Good luck with him, Draco. You deserve love."  

Draco opened his mouth, meaning to tell her who He was, when there was a loud crash and a door slamming. Mrs. Greengrass stormed down the driveway of Malfoy Manor. Her face was red and her nostrils flared like a dragon. 

"Mum?" 

Astoria's father came running after his wife. "Darling, please," he shouted. "It's nothing! You know I love you-"

"-but you love her too!" Mrs. Greengrass whirled around to face him. "An affair? With a fucking Healer? You weren't even planning on telling me, were you?"

"I was going to." 

"Were you going to leave me for her? Leave your wife and daughters?"

Mr. Greengrass just stared at his wife. Soon to ex-wife, Draco figured. 

"Unbelievable." Mrs. Greengrass was crying now.

"Darling," he said, reaching for her hand. She yanked it back. 

"Don't. Just. Don't." 

"Mum!" Astoria and Draco had stood up to get a better view. 

"Come here, Astoria. We're going home."

Astoria gave Draco a quick hug before grabbing her mother's arm for Side-Along Apparatition. 

It was months before Astoria, Daphne, and Mrs. Greengrass came back for tea. Draco didn't see Mr. Greengrass again.

Draco finally understood what his father had been drilling into his head for years: All love did was tear people apart. He didn't want a mark on his wrist anymore. 

 

•••

 

Harry, having grown up with Muggles, was puzzled when he saw red writing on the witch's wrist behind the register at Flourish and Blott's as she handed him his change. He assumed it was just a strange tattoo, until he saw a J on his mum's wrist in a photograph. He flicked through more pages, and sure enough, his father had an L. 

"You mean a Mark?" said Hermione when he had asked during the summer holidays.

"Is that what they're called?"

"Not officially," said Hermione. "It's a sort of nickname for them. I think I heard Lavendar Brown call them Letters."

"Why haven't I seen the Dursley's Marks? Or any other mates from school?" Harry asked. 

"Only witches and wizards get them. I checked my parents' wrists when I first read about them."

"How do you get them?"

"You fall in love and the person's initial appears on your wrist."

"Have you got one then?"

Hermione shook her head. "Do you? Is that why you're asking?"

Harry moved his sleeve to check, as if one had appeared during their conversation. His skin was still unmarked except for a bruise he got from the Quidditch championship game weeks ago (they had finally won the Quidditch Cup). 

He shook his head. "Do you know anybody who has any?"

"Just a few people at Hogwarts," said Hermione. "Not anybody we know too well."

 

•••

 

Harry was getting dressed for bed after a wonderful couple of hours spent with Ginny roaming the grounds and snogging. As he pulled his shirt over his head, he felt a strong tingling sensation on his forearm. He looked down and gasped. It appeared as though a ghost was writing on his skin. A cursive G in red was left once the tingling had passed. 

Harry smiled at it. His first Mark. He traced his fingers over it delicately until he fell into a deep sleep.

As he walked Ginny to class the next morning (he had a free period), he stopped suddenly and said, "Gin, can I show you something?"

"Alright." 

They stopped next to a suit of armor. Harry rolled up his sleeve, and showed Ginny his Mark. 

His heart stopped when, instead of beaming at him or weeping, Ginny gave him a look of pity. 

"What's wrong?" He asked. 

"Harry," she said. She rolled up her own robe and held up her arm, fist closed. There was no H anywhere. Only an L and a D. 

"Oh." His throat felt tight.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Ginny said. She reached for his hand. Harry let her. 

"I really am, Harry, I just-"

"-I promised Ron I'd help him study," Harry interrupted quietly. He dropped Ginny's hand and left her standing in the hallway. 

He found Ron in the Common Room. He opened his textbook, feeling as if a Muggle football team had stomped on his heart with their cleats. 

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry showed Ron his Mark. 

"Well, that's good, isn't it? About time it showed up. Has Ginny showed you hers yet?"

"Ginny doesn't have an H."

Ron blanched. "Did you two break up?"

Harry opened his pot of ink and got his quill ready. "We should start on our essays. They're due Thursday."

 

•••

 

Lit wand in his right hand, Maurader's Map in the other, Harry skimmed every inch, looking for the dot labeled _Draco Malfoy_. He wasn't in the common room....Great Hall was closed....only one in the Prefect's Bathroom was Padma Patil....Library was closing. 

"Stalking Malfoy again, Harry?" asked Ron as he clambered into bed. 

Harry didn't answer. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with Malfoy."

"Piss off, Ron." 

"I'm just saying, your obssession with him is-"

" _Goodnight_ , Ron," Harry said firmly.

Ron snorted, but he didn't say anything as he fell asleep. 

An hour later, Harry was dozing off, still watching the map. He snapped his head up and looked back at his map. To his dissappointment, Draco was in his dorm already. 

Angry, Harry wiped the map clean, took off his glasses, and fell asleep. 

As Harry pulled his trousers on the next morning, he realised the G on his wrist was no longer alone. 

Shocked, he cleaned his glasses and blinked twice. 

"What the fuck," he whispered. 

A brick red D was etched on his skin. Seeing how bright it was, it must have appeared just a few hours before he woke up.

Harry's stomach did somersaults as he realised there was only one person who could have given him his second Letter. 

 

•••

 

 


	2. I

 

"I've got Parvati and Padma plus Susan Bones. What about you, Ron?"

"Dean, Macmillan, and Neville. Harry?"

Harry went to the bottom of the page and almost choked on his corn flakes. 

"What? They expel you already, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I've got Seamus, Terry Boot...and Malfoy." 

" _Malfoy_?" Ron shouted incrediously. "You're going to share a dormitory with Draco sodding Malfoy?"

"Say it louder, Ron, I don't think the Fawcetts have heard you."

"Shut up, Harry." 

"You're overreacting, Ron," said Ginny. "Malfoy won't slit Harry's throat in his sleep. He can't risk getting thrown into Azkaban."

"He'll find a way to make it look like an accident," insisted Ron. "Or maybe that's his plan."

"What is?"

"To get sent to Azkaban. That way he can break his father out or something."

"You're being ridiculous," Ginny said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, we've all made our peace with Malfoy and his mother. It's about time you did too."

"Just because Harry spoke at his trial doesn't mean we're all going to hold hands and weave daisy crowns together."

Ginny flicked a piece of cereal at her brother. "You're making a bigger fuss than Harry is, and he's the one who's gonna be sleeping in the same room as Malfoy."

Upon hearing his name, Harry snapped out of his thoughts and said, "Huh?"

"You don't seem miffed by the fact that you're sharing a dorm with Malfoy," said Hermione. She had spread out all their book lists in a fan and was writing an X next to the books they had. 

"Oh," said Harry. "Like you said, I'm not worried about him jinxing me or anything. He's on probation, so the Ministry will know in a second if he's hexed or killed anyone."

"You're barking, all of you," said Ron. 

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. "We still need a few school things. Why don't we all go later this afternoon?"

Harry nodded, Ron grunted in agreement, and Ginny said she'd invite Luna to come along. 

 

•••

 

After stopping at Gringotts (the goblins were still angry with the trio for smashing their bank) Hermione, Ginny, and Luna went to Flourish and Blott's for everyone's books, and Harry and Ron were in charge of potion ingredients and other supplies. Hermione handed them a duplicate of her Bottom-less Purse, and they were to meet at Madame Malkin's afterwards. 

"Right," Harry said, pulling out the list Hermione had given them. "Luna needs a new telescope, Ginny and Hermione need a set of scales, and...another chess set, Ron?"

"My bishops won't listen to me anymore," grumbled Ron. 

"You can look for your chess set. I'll find the girls' supplies."

They split up at the door. Harry found everything quickly and had to wait a good ten minutes before Ron deemed one suitable enough for him. 

Their next stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry needed new gloves, and Ginny was out of polish. The shopkeeper asked Harry for an autograph.

When they arrived at Madame Malkin's, the girls were already there. 

"Find everything alright?" Luna asked. 

Harry and Ron nodded. Hermione opened the door, and they stepped inside. 

Ginny read the Quibbler while she waited for her Quidditch robes to be stitched up. She sat next to where Luna and Harry stood in front of mirrors. Ron and Hermione browsed. 

"I'm just going to pin your sleeves up for a bit, dearie," said the blonde witch working on Harry. He nodded. 

Ginny glanced up at them for a second and did a double take. "Harry, is that another Letter on your wrist?"

Interested, Luna turned towards him. "Ooh, what number is this? Number five?"

"It's not number anything because I've still only got Ginny's Mark on my wrist." Nonetheless, he twisted his wrist downwards. They couldn't see it. They couldn't. 

"Luna, can you read it?"

"I can!" Luna craned her neck. "It looks like a... D."

"A D? It obviously isn't Dean, so it must be..." Ginny trailed off. Her eyes widened. "Draco."

Harry felt as if somebody had snatched the world out from underneath his feet. "You're mental, Ginny. I'm not in love with Malfoy."

"No, idiot." She pointed behind them. "He's here." 

Harry turned, and sure enough, Draco Malfoy was standing at the front of the shop. Everyone had stopped to stare at him.

"Why is Kingsley with him?" asked Luna. She had stepped down from her stool to go pay. 

"He needs Auror escort whenever he leaves the Manor," explained Harry. "Probation rules."

Thankfully, the witch had finished with him as well. He stepped down, pulled his robes back on and over his arms forcefully, and went to the desk to pay. He stared firmly at the wall behind Madam Malkin's head. 

"How can I help you?" Asked the woman who had helped Harry. 

"Spare set of robes. Identical to these." Malfoy held out a set of his school robes. The witch nodded and scurried away. 

"Here you go." Madam Malkin handed Harry a bag, and he shoved it inside Hermione's purse. 

"Harry," said Kingsley in his deep voice. 

"Kingsley." They shook hands. 

"Going back to school are we? All of you?" He added as he saw everyone in the shop. 

"McGonagall said anyone was welcome to come back during this 'filler year' to complete their education," Harry said. "Even seventh years."

"You three don't need to complete your education if you want a job, you know," Kingsley said. "Head Auror Robards has been busting my ass about bringing you in for a job."

"We know we don't have to. We wanted to."

"Mostly Hermione," said Ron.

"Of course," said Kingsley, a soft smile on his lips. "Well, I'll leave you lot to your shopping, then. Come on, Draco." 

Harry watched Draco walk by, and, to his surprise, Draco nodded at him. "Potter." 

Harry was too stunned to move until Ron bumped into him on his way out. 

 

•••

 

"I can't believe it," sobbed Mrs. Weasley. "Your last year. All of you."

"Mum, stop." There was a rythmetic  _thunk thunk thunk_ as Ginny dragged her trunk on the stairs. "We haven't even gotten to the platform yet!"

"It's just....you've all grown so much. I-I can't believe I won't get to see anyone off the train anymore."

"After more than twenty years of doing that I thought you'd be sick of it," muttered Ron. 

"Besides, you can always come and see our kids, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione. 

"And now you've got the house all to yourselves," said Harry. "It'll be nice and quiet without us, and we won't eat all your food."

Mrs. Weasley only sobbed harder. She wiped her tears with a clean handkerchief. "Has everyone got everything then? Ready to go?"

They all nodded. Hermione waved her wand and levitated everyone's trunks and the owl cages so that they could walk quickly to the Apparition point. Once there, they all turned on the spot (Ginny clutching Ron's arm for Side-Along), and were on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. 

They hadn't even been there for five seconds before Mrs. Weasley started bawling. 

"Mum! People are staring at us, calm down!" said Ron as she hugged him tightly. 

"You act as if we're going off to war," said Ginny. She was hugged next.

"She didn't cry this much when we were fighting an actual war last year," said Ron. Molly swatted his arm as she reached out to hug Hermione next. 

"I wish Arthur could be here to see you," Mrs. Weasley said in between sobs. 

"We'll visit during the Christmas hols," said Harry as he was pulled into a tight hug. 

"And you know we'll write to you every week, Mum," added Ginny. 

"Alright." Mrs. Weasley held Harry out at arms length. "Do look after yourselves. Please? For me?"

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley." 

The whistle blew, they said their last goodbyes, and jumped onto the Hogwarts Express. 

In the time they found an empty compartment, Harry had been greeted by a dozen people and signed seven autographs. 

"I reckon you're even more famous than before, mate," Ron said as they sat down. "Now that you've died and come back." 

Harry was about to make a snappy retort but was interrupted by a young girl who wanted a photo signed.

 

•••

 

"...Now, would the Prefects show their houses to their respectable dormitories? Eighth years, please stay here for a moment." 

There was a shuffling of chairs as evwryone except a few students at each house table. 

"Look at him," whispered Hermione. "He looks dreadful."

"Who?" asked Harry. 

"Malfoy." 

"How?" Harry asked as if he hadn't also noticed the heavy bags under Malfoy's eyes, the way his pale face was a grayish colour, his hair had grown out, and he didn't carry himself with the same confidence and pride that he used to. 

"He looks the same to me," grumbled Ron. "Besides, he deserves it, almost killing us last year with that bloody fire."

"If you would all follow me," interrupted McGonagall, now Headmistress and not just Professor. 

They stood, and she walked them out of the hall and up four flights of stairs before coming to a stop in front of a large wooden door with a single brass knocker. 

"Behind this door is your new common room and dormitory," she said. "The password changes once a week. Only Eighth year students are allowed inside either. No exceptions." 

She turned to face the door, banged the knocker once, and said, "Dumbledore."

The door swung open and revealed a room about the size of two classrooms combined. Half a dozen squashy armchairs sat in front of a cozy fireplace, and their were several chairs and tables behind them. The walls were draped with banners displaying every House's colours. 

"A few announcements for you all before you settle into your dorms," Headmistress McGonagall announced. She waited until the students sat or stood comfortably before continuing:

"I will start with the basics. You will all be taking Seventh Year courses with a bit of more advanced magic as well. You are all still in the Houses you were sorted into, and therefore your points will still count. Your curfew will be at midnight. Women's dorms to the right. Men's to the left.

Now, any questions?"

Several students raised their hands. 

"Right. Mr. Weasley?"

"Can we still play on the Quidditch teams?"

"Of course. Mr. Potter is still captain, by the way. Miss Patil?"

"There's not that many of us. Why can't we sleep in our old dorms with the rest of our Houses?"

"There may not be many of you, but there is no longer any room in the dorms due to the high number of First Years. Mr. Finnigan?"

"Can I change my dorm assignment? I don't particularly fancy sleeping in the same room as a Death Eater."

Parvati Patil gasped. Neville flinched. Harry clenched his fist. 

But Draco simply looked up from where he was sitting alone. His expression was completely neutral. 

 _Probably used to it_ , Harry thought. 

"Mr. Finnigan, please refrain from calling your classmates Death Eaters. And no, you may not change your dorm mates. That is final. Now, goodnight to you all," she said over Seamus's complaining.

As they walked upstairs to their dorm, Seamus fell in step next to Harry and said, "You really don't care? About sharing with Malfoy?"

"It's not like you'll be sleeping in the same bed, Seamus. Besides, he's on probation. One slip up and he'll be chucked into Azkaban."

"Still," he insisted, "he's killed people. Tortured and worked for You Know Who. You can't tell me that doesn't make you uneasy." 

"You all tortured people last year," said Harry. "I can name at least five other people who killed last year without hesitation during the Battle. You blasted a bunch of Death Eaters to smithereens, if I remember correctly. I used Unforgivable Curses, too." 

Seamus paused. "Are you...defending him?"

"No," snapped Harry. "I'm just...pointing out that you can't say shit about what he's done without correcting other people." 

"But there's a difference! We did what we had to do to stay alive! The Carrows were forcing us. But I'd bet half the money in Gringotts that _he_ did it for fun. He probably even got off on it." 

Harry didn't say anything else as he changed and clambered into bed. 

When Harry woke up the next morning, one of the beds was empty. It was stripped of it's sheets and blankets. 

He walked downstairs and saw a rumpled pile of blankets on one of the armchairs. 

 

•••

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: PTSD, slight panic attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everybody who reads my fics real quick. You guys are so sweet and supportive and I appreciate you all :)))

 

Draco has never hated the Ministry of Magic more than he does now. Screw them for forcing him to go back to school.

He's only been back at Hogwarts for three days and he's already been cornered and attacked five times.

The first time it was a Ravenclaw that bumped into him and sent him down a couple steps on his way to Charms. He was now sporting a purple and blue bruise on his ribcage. 

The second and third times were Stinging Hexes aimed at his hands and neck. The fourth time, someone, and he strongly suspected it was Seamus, had laced his bedsheets with Undiluted Bubotuber Puss. Luckily, he wore long sleeved pajamas, so Madam Pomfrey only needed to treat his hands, feet, and ears. 

The most recent one was that morning. Draco was walking to Potions when somebody cast a Trip Jinx from behind him. He fell face first into a suit of armour and was almost impaled by its lance. 

"Fuck." He rubbed his arm as a group of Hufflepuffs walked by, giggling and high fiving each other. 

You know people really hate you when _Hufflepuffs_ , of all people, start maiming you.

Draco felt as if the Ministry had only assigned him this punishment because they wanted somebody to do him in for them and they could chalk it up as a magical accident. 

And, of course, he couldn't even lift a finger to defend himself. He knew the attacker would run off, screaming bloody murder, and then Draco would be sent on the next train to Azkaban. 

As a fifth year Slytherin flicked rolled up parchment balls at his back during Charms, Draco wished he had been assigned house arrest like his mother. 

 

•••

 

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" 

"Yes, Potter. Sit down, please."

"Am I in some sort of trouble?"

McGonagall shook her head. "I'm sure you've noticed that Mr. Malfoy has had problems in the short amount of time we've been back."

"I haven't really noticed," Harry said like a liar. He noticed Draco's empty seat during classes. He had noticed the welts and bruises decorating his pale skin. He had even noticed the way Draco's grey eyes would widen or the way he flinched whenever people pulled their wands out near him. 

"He's been in the Hospital Wing so much that Poppy asked me if she needs to install one of those turning doors that Muggles use," McGonagall said. 

"A revolving door?"

"Precisely."

"With all due respect, Headmistress," said Harry, "what does Draco Malfoy being injured have to do with me? I publicly spoke in favor of him at his trial and people still don't trust him." 

"I'm going to assign you to...shadow Mr. Malfoy. Keep a close eye on him. Step in if somebody tries to harm him and report anything serious to me."

Harry almost fell of the chair and onto his ass. He gripped the bottom for balance. 

"Careful, Potter," said McGonagall as he righted himself. 

"You want me to stalk Malfoy?"

"Not stalk, Potter. Just try to prevent any attacks on him."

"Again, all due respect, Headmistress, but why me? Why not ask an Auror or another Slytherin to do this? Somebody less obvious?"

"I can't ask the Ministry to waste Aurors on something as small as this. They're up to their noses cleaning up former Death Eater safe houses and such. I asked you because you're you. I know that if you step in during an attack on Mr. Malfoy, you won't be injured and eventually, people will leave him alone."

"How do I do this without him noticing?"

"Use your brain, Potter. You have a cloak and a very useful map. Or you could simply befriend Mr. Malfoy and kill two birds with one stone." 

Harry's breath hitched. He couldn't just _be friends_ with Malfoy. Not when his heart did back handsprings everytime he saw him.

"I know you two don't see eye to eye," continued the Headmistress obliviously, "but I don't want to see another student murdered at this school. Can you make sure of that, Potter?"

Harry swallowed thickly before nodding his head. "Yes, Headmistress."

 

•••

 

Draco turned around and looked over his shoulder for the third time. He could have sworn that he heard footsteps walking behind him. The only problem was that he couldn't see anybody. 

"You're just paranoid, Draco," he whispered to himself. 

Suddenly there was a loud clang behind him, as if somebody had punched one of the suits of armour. He whirled around, but nobody was there. 

Nobody there...hearing footsteps... A certain memory popped into his head. 

"I guess you didn't learn your lesson after the last time you spied on me, did you, Potter?" 

No response. 

"I know you're there," Draco called down the hall. "You can stop pretending and take your bloody cloak off now." 

Still nothing. 

"Maybe I really am going mad," he muttered to himself as he rounded the corner and was gone. 

Waiting to make sure the coast was clear, Harry ripped of his Invisibility Cloak and folded it in his arms. 

"I can't believe I'm actually doing McGonagall's plan," he said to himself. 

 

••• 

 

"Harry, where are you going? The Great Hall is this way." Hermione's brows crinkled in confusion. 

"Nowhere. I'll be back soon. Save me a spot at the table, will you?"

"Um, alright." 

Harry practically ran down staircase and corridors until he reached a large painting of a bowl of fruit. Breatheless, he checked the map to make sure he was inside. He reached out and tickled the green pear. The pear giggled before it turned into a green handle. Harry pulled the portrait opened and stepped inside. 

Excited squeaks of "Goodmorning, sir!" greeted him as he surveyed the room. The House Elves were finishing up serving breakfast to the four long tables that mimicked the House tables upstairs in the Great Hall. 

Watching them, his heart tugged painfully as he remembered Dobby running around with them, his mountain of knitted hats and mismatched socks making him stand out from all the others. 

His chest tightened uncomfortably as he was taken back to that day in the Manor. Hermione's screams echoing off the walls...Dobby showing up to help in the dank cellar they were being held in...His breathing quickened...All he could see was Bellatrix's silver knife lying in the sand, dripping with the blood of two of his friends...

Harry clenched his fist tightly, digging his fingernails into his palm until the memories faded. He was Harry James Potter. He wasn't at Malfoy Manor; he was in the kitchens at Hogwarts. The war had been over for months. 

Something was tugging at his robes. "Would Harry Potter like to sit?" squeaked a house elf somewhere around his waist. 

"Um, yeah. Please."

The House Elf grabbed a small fist full of Harry's robes and tugged as he led him to a small wooden table in the back near the fireplace. There was somebody else already sitting there. 

Malfoy looked up from his pile of books and scowled at Harry as he sat down across from him. 

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"Same as you, Malfoy," he responded. "Eating breakfast."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I meant in the kitchens. Shouldn't you be upstairs with all your adoring fans?" 

Harry accepted a cup of tea from one of the elves and a plate loaded with an assortment of breakfast foods before saying, "Needed a break from them. My hand is so tired from writing autrographs that I won't be able to write my Transfiguration essay later." 

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched. "It won't make much of a difference since your handwriting looks like shite anyways." 

"It isn't that bad," Harry said defensively. 

Malfoy looked up from whatever he was writing long enough to say, "It's almost as bad as your hair, and that says a lot." 

"What's wrong with my hair?" Confused, Harry raked his hand through his dark curls. 

Malfoy frowned. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Malfoy pointed somewhere near Harry's left ear. "Your hair is so long it's almost past your chin. That wouldn't be a problem if your hair wasn't so bloody unkept. Have you never heard of scissors, Potter?"

Harry clamped his mouth shut and swallowed his retort. McGonagall was counting on to befriend this prat. He didn't want to know what happened to people who disappointed her. He was pretty sure there was a special place in Hell for those people.

 

•••

 

Draco was both shocked and mildly annoyed when Potter sat down with him at breakfast again the next day.  He raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything. Instead, he continued to struggle with his Defense homework. 

After countless tries (four) and almost half an hour (seven minutes) at searching for the answer to a particularly difficult question, Draco decided to give up on his Defense homework and move on to Potions. 

"Looking for the answer to number nine?" asked the man sitting across from him. 

Draco scowled. "Not that it's any of _your_ concern, but yes, I am." 

"It took me ages to find it too," Potter said. He leaned over and pointed out a couple of sentences in Draco's textbook. He withdrew his hand before he could complain. "Try right there." 

As Draco read the sentences, he realised that the answer had been staring him in the face all along. He scribbled the answer down and said "Thanks" in a low voice.

Potter looked up from his biscuits. "What was that?"

"You know damn well what I said, Potter," snapped Draco. "Don't make me repeat it." 

Potter simply smirked at him. Git. 

 

•••

 

"Here again, Potter? I'm beginning to think you only come here to see me. I wpuldn't blame you, of course."

Harry flipped Malfoy off as he took his usual seat. The House Elves promptly served him some lunch foods.

"Seriously, Potter," Malfoy said, "It's been almost two weeks. Why have you been eating all your meals in here? Surely Granger and the Weasel have been wondering where you are?" 

Harry shook his head. "They know I'm down here and why. I think they even prefer it this way. I'm not awkwardly third wheeling anymore or attracting unwanted attention."

Malfoy had pulled out his Transfiguration notebook and was writing notes as he spoke. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you down here at all?"

Harry shrugged. "All those admirers are a pain in my arse. Always asking me to sign things, pose for photos, or trying to give me sweets or gifts. It's enough to drive anybody mad." 

"Yes, being loved unconditionally by the entire wizarding world must be so hard," Malfoy deadpanned. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Didn't think you'd understand." 

"Understand what?"

"What it's like to constantly be sought out for the smallest things. What it's like to not be able to do anything imperfect because everyone is watching your every move. What it's like to have a reputation you don't want." Harry's voice faltered. "What it's like to lay awake at night and wish you were like everybody else." 

Malfoy flashed Harry his trademark sneer. "You think I don't fucking know what all that is like?" He rolled up his sleeves and showed his various burns, welts, and bruises. "People hex me in the corridors for aomething as petty and stupid as me getting a higher quiz grade than them. Everyone is constantly watching me, waiting for me to fuck up so that they can laugh at me and make it a bloody huge deal. I would give anything to be an ordinary student here, not having to watch my back every sevond of the day, even while I sleep, because of something that was forced onto me. But sure, Potter, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about."

Harry sat in silence, stunned. He had never seen Malfoy this angry or passionate about anything before. His stomach bubbled with regret as he watched Malfoy calm down from his rant. 

"Merlin," Harry said. "Malfoy, I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"-nobody does," Malfoy snapped. His eyes were red. "They just assume everything about me."

"I'm sorry," Harry babbled. "I didn't mean to..." He faltered. Malfoy had put his hand up to stop him. 

"It's fine. I forgive you, whatever. But if you truly want to make it up to me you could let me copy your conclusion for our Defense essay." 

"Only if you'll write the introduction to my Potion's essay."

Malfoy slid over his parchment. "Done deal."

 

•••

 

Later that night, Harry replayed Malfoy's rant in his head. After listening to that and seeing the raw emotion in Draco's (he was no longer an antagonist of Harry's, but hopefully a friend) face, he had earned Harry's respect. He didn't care what his classmates thought; they wouldn't change his mind about this.

Harry looked over at Draco's empty bed next to his. He still wasn't sleeping in the dormitories. If it wasn't for the mess of sheets downstairs, he would think that Draco didn't sleep at all. 

Harry sighed and ran his fingers delicately over the D burned into his skin. It had begun to tingle, like it had when it had first appeared. 

 

•••

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. III

 

Since Draco was currently in the hospital wing, and would be there for a good chunk of the morning, Harry decided to eat in the Great Hall so he wouldn't be alone. 

"Look who finally decided to show up," Ron said. He patted Harry's shoulder good-naturedly as he sat down across from Ginny. 

"Well, I can't spend all my time in the kitchens," said Harry. 

"Sure seems like you can." Ginny leaned forward and wiggled her eyebrows. "Unless that isn't where you're really going."

"What are you on about?"

"I'm just saying," Ginny said innocently as she buttered her toast, "that dissappearing for long amounts of time, not being truthful about who you're with. Seems very suspicious to me."

"Why would Harry lie about who he's with?" asked Hermione. 

"Where did you get the impression that I'm lying about who I'm with?" Harry asked, perplexed. 

"Because he's probably off shagging some girl, Hermione," said Ginny. She took a sip of tea.

"Or shagging some bloke," muttered Harry. 

Ron made a choking sound. "What did you say, Harry?"

"I said 'or shagging some bloke'," Harry repeated nervously. 

"Hermione, what day is it today?" Ron asked his girlfriend. 

"Thursday, September seventeenth."

"Oh, fuck me," said Ginny. She dug around in her school bag and handed Ron ten Sickles. Hermione handed him a Galleon, Ron kissed her cheek, and she continued reading the Prophet.

Meanwhile, Harry watched in confusion. 

"Thanks, mate!" Ron thumped Harry on the back. 

"What the hell just happened?"

"I bet Ron ten Sickles that you would come out as gay on a Friday or Monday," muttered Ginny.

"I chose Tuesdays and Wednesdays," added Hermione. 

"And I picked Thursday and Saturday," said Ron happily. 

"Sunday was whoever he came out to first wins," said Ginny. 

"First of all," Harry said, "you guys bet on my coming out?"

"Yep," said Ron. 

"And second of all, none of you should be the winners. I'm not gay."

"You just said you were shagging some bloke, mate," said Ron. 

Hermione looked over at Harry. "Harry, you know we're supportive of you. We don't care that you fancy men." 

"No, I know that. I'm just saying I'm not gay; I'm bisexual. And since the bet was me coming out as _gay_ , none of you win." 

The girls stared at Ron expectantly. Ginny even held out her hand.

"Yeah, I'm not giving you my money back," said Ron defensively. 

"That's whatever, but going back to this whole shagging some bloke thing," said Ginny. 

Harry mentally facepalmed. 

"All I'm saying is, you could be saying that as an excuse to shag whoever else's Mark is on your wrist."

"Don't be thick, Ginny," Ron interrupted. "The only Letter he has is yours." 

"Then why did Luna and I see another one on him in Madame Malkin's?" Ginny grinned smugly. 

"Maybe it was a bruise," Hermione said logically. 

" _Or_ it was another Mark," insisted Ginny. 

"Bruise."

"Mark. What kind of bruise would look exactly like a letter?"

"If it was a Mark, Harry would have told us," said Ron. 

"Harry hasn't been seeing anyone right now," said Hermione. 

"That's what he wants everybody to think." Ginny tapped her finger to her temple. 

"I'm not seeing anybody," said Harry. It was no use; they kept bickering as if he wasn't even there. 

"Harry eats in the kitchens because he got tired of being approached all the the time by fans," said Ron. 

"Then why isn't he there right now?" Ginny queried. 

Ron shrugged. "Maybe he got tired. Maybe he misses us. Use your head, Gin."

"Oh, I bet Harry knows all about using his head..."

"I'm telling you, Gin, you're mental. Harry only has one letter."

"Let's just settle this right now." Hermione folded the Prophet and leaned forward. "Harry, roll your sleeve up, please."

During this discussion, Harry had been on Internal Panic Mode. His mind kept providing him with excuses (I have to use the restroom; Why does this matter?; My arm is gone, maybe next time) but he blanked the moment Hermione asked him to show his wrist. 

"C'mon, Harry," prodded Ginny. "We're waiting." 

"I don't have another Mark," Harry repeated in vain. 

"Prove it."

"No. Why would I lie to you guys?"

"Because it's somebody embarassing, probably," suggested Ron. "Or one of us..."

Ginny, always the most impatient of the four, reached over with both hands to try and pull back Harry's sleeve and expose him herself. 

"What the fuck!" Harry leaned back, holding his wrist to his chest.

"Just show us your wrist and we'll all let this go, Harry," said Ginny. 

There really was no letting this go now that Luna and Ginny had seen it. Shit. 

Harry gulped. "I...er...Fine. You guys win. I have another Mark."

Ginny slammed her palms down on the table. "I bloody knew it!"

"And I'll show you guys. But, we should do it somewhere....not here." 

"Is that corridor behind the tapestry still there?" asked Hermione. "The one you used to get to Gryffindor Tower faster?"

Ginny nodded. 

They all stood up and walked, Harry dawdling behind the other three and trying to calm his pounding heart, until they reached the tapestry. Ron threw it aside, and they all stepped inside. 

Harry shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Let me just...prepare you guys. Er...you might not like who it is. Just...don't punch me, or scream, or say who it is loudly, please?"

The other three nodded. Exhaling slowly, his heart hammering indents into his ribs, he reached out his arm and rolled back his robe, exposing his forearm and Draco's Mark. 

Ginny blinked rapidly, as if she thought her eyes were tricking her. 

Hermione simply raised her eyebrows. Harry could practically hear the gears turning inside her head, scrolling through the list of people they knew with a D. 

Ron's mouth was hanging open. He looked up at Harry and said, "I mean, I don't blame you, Harry. Dean did get really fit these past few years." 

"It's...not Dean." 

"Who else could it be? Hey!"

Ginny had swatted his arm. "Are you really that thick? There's only one other person it could be."

Ron's confused face didn't change. 

"Think back to our sixth year, Ronald," suggested Hermione. 

Ron stood still and thought about it before he started rambling, "No...I-I was joking when I told you...It can't be that prat...No, no, absolutely not..." 

"If it wasn't Malfoy then why did Harry hide his Letter from us?" Hermione said. 

Ron rubbed his temples. "My brain needs to process this." 

"It does make sense if you think about it," Hermione said. 

"How?"

Hermione counted on her fingers as she said, "They were always seeking each other attention above everybody else's, Harry's obsession with him in sixth year, and Malfoy doesn't eat in the Great Hall anymore. He has to eat somewhere, and Harry recently started taking his meals in the kitchens." 

"I told you he was shagging somebody!" Ginny said. 

"You can't have sex in the kitchens, Ginny," reasoned Hermione. "That's incredibly unsanitary."

"What's more," Harry interrupted, "is Draco and I aren't having sex. And I would never do that in a kitchen, Ginny."

"Oh, so he's _Draco_ now, is he?" Ginny beamed at him. Harry wished for the trillionth time today that he hadn't said anything. 

"We're friends! That's it! Nothing more." Harry deflated a bit at that last sentence. 

Ginny grabbed his hand and patted it. "For now." 

Ron threw his hands up in the air as he paced around the room. Harry figured he was still processing things. 

"It's not like we're going to hook up, Ron," Harry assured his best friend. "Draco isn't into men, anyways." 

"Yes, he is," said Ginny. 

Harry whirled around to face her. "How do you know? Did he say so?"

Ginny shook her head. "He doesn't have to. No straight man wears his trousers that tight."

 

•••

 

Harry almost tripped flat on his face when he walked into the Eight Year Common Room and saw Draco sitting on one of the couches, fully dressed. He jumped to his feet when he noticed Harry and grabbed his school things. 

"Were you...waiting for me?"

Draco scoffed. "Of course not."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. 

Draco huffed. "Fine. I was. But only because you still have my essay. It's due first hour." 

They started walking to the kitchens in comflortable silence. Harry's insides were skipping; Draco was standing quite close to him. His arm would occasionally brush against Harry's. 

A young Ravenclaw girl, fourth year by the look of her, was waiting at the foot of the staircase. She smiled sinisterly when she saw Draco, but the smile turned innocent when she saw Harry was walking towards her. She sst something down behind her legs. 

"Harry!" She grabbed his hand and shook it vigourously. "How are you? I've been meaning to ask you-"

"-No. But I think I'll take this with me, thanks." Harry grabbed a small bottle of bright blue liquid that sat behind her. The girl's nostrils flared slightly as they walked by her. 

"Know what this is?" Harry asked Draco. 

Draco held it up to the light. "Can't remember the name, but it would have made my skin bubble and burn horribly." 

"She was probably going to throw it at you."

"It's damn lucky I had the wonderful Harry Potter with me to save me." Draco smirked. 

Harry shoved him playfully. "Stop it." 

They walked a bit more in silence until Harry asked, "Why were you in the hospital wing?"

"Some prat tried to jinx my fingernails off."

"Tried?"

"They misspronounced the spell. My fingers were jinxed together, on both hands. They ended up breaking some bones." 

"Merlin, that's awful."

"It could be worse. I my skin could be covered in third degree burns and bubbling uncomfortably." Draco stopped. They had reached the portrait to the kitchens. As he ticked the pear, he turned and smirked at Harry again. Merlin, that made him feel things in the lower region of his body. 

"Thank Merlin I was with Saint Potter, everybody's precious hero." 

" _Stop_!" 

They both laughed. For a moment, Harry stared at Draco, drinking in every detail from the way his hair shone in the firelight to the way his eyelashes were darker at the roots than the tip. 

They held eye contact for a moment too long. Harry felt his face burn bright as Draco cleared his throat and stepped inside. Harry's stomach swooped as if it was on a swing. 

 

•••

 

It was late in the night. Most students below year six were asleep, the House Elves had just started cleaning the dormitories, and Harry and Draco were getting tipsy from firewhiskey they had snuck from the kitchens and into the corridor behind the tapestry. 

After getting bored with just chatting and passing the flask back and forth, Draco suggested they play Never Have I Ever. 

The game started a bit slow, until Draco said, "Never Have I Ever Fantasized about a girl I wasn't dating." 

Harry took two swigs from the flask. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Cho and Ginny."

Draco rolles his eyes. "That's lame. You ended up dating them."

"It still counts." He was about to ask something when he suddenly said, "Hold on. I find it very hard that you've never fantasized about a girl before."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "And why is that, Potter?"

"Pansy was always draped all over you for the past seven years," Harry explained. "Following you everwhere, making eyes at you in class. Kind of hard to believe you two weren't a couple."

"Pansy was nothing more to me than a close friend." Draco took a gulp of alcohol before continuing. "And what's more, I don't like girls."

Harry almost choked on the air. He covered it up (mostly) by turning it into a cough. 

"So you're gay then?" He asked. 

Draco nodded. "That is what you call men who fancy other men instead of women."

Harry rolled his eyes half-heartedly. 

The game escalated after that. But Harry couldn't concentrate on much else. Even as they were heading back to the dormitory, pleasantly buzzed, the voice in his head was practically screaming DRACO MALFOY LIKES BOYS DRACO MALFOY LIKES BOYS DRACO MALFOY LIKES BOYS on loop. 

He fell asleep that night, and every night after that for a few days, with a smile on his face. 

 

•••

 

 

 

 


	5. IV

 

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, sir," said a House Elf. 

Draco turned and saw a handsome Tawny owl perched on top of said Elf's head. 

"Thank you," he said as he untied the letter from around its leg. It nipped his finger affectionately and promptly flew off to the Owlery. 

Draco recognized the parchment at once. Astoria always insisted on using rose scented parchment. For the aesthetic, she claimed. 

 

_Dearest Draco,_

_It's been so long since we last saw each other. I miss you terribly. I also miss our chats. Because of that I've decided to visit Hogsmeade village next Saturday. That's your next school trip, right? If it is, please owl me and tell me where we should meet. We haven't had a proper chat in months and, judging by your recent letters about one Harry Potter, it's about time we had another._

_As always, lots of love,_

_Astoria_

 

Draco was busy scribbling out an answer to her letter when Harry plopped into the seat in front of him. He reached over and snatched a biscuit from Draco's plate, smiling crookedly as he bit into it. If Draco wasn't busy, he would have hit him across the face. 

Harry had already pulled out his homework (that he should have finished last night) and was tapping his quill to his bottom lip. Draco's breath hitched slightly, and his stomach swooped as he watched Harry, those damn curls getting in his eyes, and Harry's hand reaching up continuously to brush them back. His body seemed to be doing a lot of that around him, nowadays. He knew what it meant, of course. 

Draco realised Astoria was right. They _really_ did need to talk.

 

•••

 

Astoria was already waiting for him, perched on a large boulder, her chocolatey curls peeking out from under her lilac knit cap. She turned when she heard footsteps on the dry leaves. Her face lit up instantly.

"Draco." She pulled him in for a tight hug. When she released and held him at arms length, she gasped. "Your face! What happened?"

"What? Is it still bleeding?"

" _Bleeding_?!"

Draco touched the gash just below his left cheekbone. "The villagers don't like me all that much. I didn't see which one of them did it, before you go after them wand blazing." 

Astoria frowned. "I cannot believe the bloody Ministry is forcing you to go to school when they know damn well you're being cursed and jinxed everyday."

"Stop worrying, Astoria, I'm fine," Draco insisted. He held her hand in both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I promise you."

"Well, of course you are," said Astoria. "You have none other than _Harry Potter_ as your personal guard."

"We're just friends, Astoria." 

Astoria wiggled her perfectly groomed eyebrows mischieviously as she sat atop the rock again. Draco followed suit. 

"So, Draco," she said, "tell me about your _friend_ , Harry."

"Astoria, he is _not_ my boyfriend, nor will he ever be," Draco insisted. 

"But do you want him to be?" 

Draco's heart was screaming "Yes, yes I do" but his brain was reminding him of the words of his father: that love was like a crack in your glasses or a thorn in your foot; all it did was hinder you and do you harm. He couldn't let Harry hurt him.

Wait. Why was he now associating love with Harry Potter?

Panicky, Draco scrambled to check his right wrist. Bruises and welts, but no Mark. He exhaled, relieved. 

He had almost forgotten that Astoria was sitting next to him until she reached over and slid his jumper sleeve back over his wrist. He looked over at her. 

"Don't let your father get to you, Draco," she said. "This is about you, and what you want. Not him. He doesn't control you."

"I-I know he doesn't." 

"Then what's stopping you from going after him?"

Fear bubbled in his stomach like water on a lit stovetop. "W-what if he isn't gay? Or he is but I'm...me?" 

"How do you know he isn't gay?"

"He fucked Ginny Weasley, for one."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "He could be into both men and women. I have a friend who's like that." 

"Just because he might be bisexual doesn't mean he's automatically into me, Astoria." 

"He most likely is."

"How the hell would you know? You've never even been in the same room as him!" 

"Don't forget, Draco. Years ago, I was in love with you once before. I know how good of a person you are. And, seeing that you're now so close that you've suppressed years of calling him by his last name and started calling him Harry now, I'd say he trusts you. He does, right?"

Draco thought back to everytime Harry had asked him for homework help, everytime Harry had stepped in and stopped another attack on his health, everytime Harry wasn't fazed by the Dark Mark still burned into Draco's flesh.

"Yeah. He does." 

"Then he sees you've changed. He knows you're a good man, Draco. Why wouldn't he have feelings for you?"

Draco still wasn't entirely convinced, and he would need a few days to think over it, but for Astoria's sake, he nodded. "Alright. I'll...see if this friendship leads to anything more with Harry."

Astoria grinned. She gave him a quick peck on his cheek. She held out her arm. "Walk with me back to the village, darling?"

 

•••

 

"You were right," Harry said. He had to fight the smile that kept wanting to return to his face. "Draco is gay." 

"Told you so," replied Ginny. "The trousers give it away. And he uses too much product in his hair."

Harry rolled his eyes. "But he doesn't want me."

Ginny set down her quill and gave Harry a disappointed stare. 

"What?" Harry asked. 

"You've been eating several meals with him in close quarters, hanging out with him, and calling him by his first name to his face."

"So?"

" _So_ , the fact that he hasn't slit your throat for doing those things is because he wants to get in your pants."

"Charming, Ginny." 

Ginny smiled at him before returning to her work. 

Harry flopped down into his favorite armchair, thinking about what Ginny had said and comparing it to every moment Harry and Draco had shared.

 _Ginny might actually be on to something_ , he thought. 

 

•••

 

Draco Malfoy had only felt this amount of nervousness and panic three times in his life. The first was while he faced Dumbledore that night on the tower, his wand pointed at his face, Avada Kedavra on the tip of his tongue. 

The second time was during the Battle of Hogwarts. That one didn't need an explanation. 

And the third time was as he waited for Harry to finish being Quidditch Captain so that they could study in the library. Although, if his plan worked, they wouldn't be doing much studying. 

He was a bit late. Draco was a bit worried. Was he being stood up?

Not that this was a date, or anything.

The Common Room entrance swung open. Draco sat up, craned his neck to see, and smiled softly. 

"Sorry I'm so late," Harry apologized. "There was a lot of mud from the rain last night on the pitch. Had to shower." 

"Good thing you did," said Draco. "Pince would have your head on a spike if she saw you dripping filth onto her books." He stood. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Harry summoned his bag and pulled out parchment, quills, and ink. Together, they exited the dormitories and made their way to the library. 

Draco's mouth felt like it was full of cotton. With every step they took, his pulse sped up. He snuck a glance at the man next to him, and saw that he was perfectly at ease. No idea of what Draco was going to pull soon. 

They stopped, having arrived. 

Draco frowned suddenly. He stepped closer, leaned over, and pinched a strand of Harry's hair in his fingers. "Your hair is wet." 

Harry smirked up at him. "That's what showering does, Draco." 

He released the strand. Even when damp, Harry's hair was as unruly as ever. It made Draco feel both frustrated and affectionate towards him. 

"Don't get smart with me. I meant, why is it still wet?"

Harry looked confused. They were so close together that when he exhaled, Draco could feel his breath on his face.

"What do you mean?" He asked in a low voice. 

"Why didn't you just use a spell to dry it?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't dry my hair magically. I wait for it to do it itself. I was raised by Muggles after-"

His words were cut off by Draco suddenly crashing his mouth into his. Harry stayed still at first, and Draco almost pulled back and wanted to stutter out an apology, before he felt Harry’s hands slide up his back and into his hair as he kissed him back. Their lips moved against each other synchronically, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to Draco’s mouth.

Draco felt stupid for not doing this before. Harry tasted like mint, probably from his toothpaste. Draco got a better taste when Harry slipped his tongue inside Draco's mouth. Draco almost melted like putty. He had never kissed anyone, much less with tongue. He loved it. 

They broke apart, Harry lips still chasing Draco's for more. He had to place his index finger between them as a barrier to stop him.

"I don't think I want to study anymore," whispered Harry against his skin. He stared Draco in the eyes. Draco noticed that Harry had miniscule flecks of gold in his otherwise green irises. Beautiful.

"Neither do I." He kissed Harry again, slow and soft. He was about to do it again when Harry put a his palm in between their lips. 

"We should go somewhere a bit more private," he said quietly. "To study."

"Yes. Study. Let’s go do that.”

 

•••

 

Long story short, they didn't get much studying done.

They started off all right: Draco wasn't confused about his Defense spells anymore, and Harry finally managed to turn his pencil bag into a hedgehog and back. 

But Draco kept rubbing his foot on Harry's foot and calf, trying to distract him. Harry ignored him, watching the smirk on the other man’s face grow bigger and bigger, until he finally gave in as Draco's foot traveled to his inner thigh. He leaned over and kissed Draco once, just to get him to stop. That led to more snogging, which led to their homework on the floor and their lips swollen and kiss bruised.

They walked back to the Common Room hand in hand. Draco saw Harry sneak glances at him, disbelief written all over his face, as if he couldn't believe he was so lucky. 

Draco agreed with him wholeheartedly.

Draco reached up to bang the knocker on the door, but Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him in for another kiss. Draco smiled against his lips. 

Smooth, Harry, he thought.

He banged the knocker, said the new password (Albatross), and they stepped inside, their hands still clasped together. The pair were almost to the staircase when they stopped in their tracks. Something was waiting for them. Or rather, someone.

Hermione and Ron were sitting at the table nearest the window. Pitch black ink was waterfalling off the table and onto the carpet. They were staring at their joined hands. 

"You guys are still awake," Harry said stupidly. 

"...Ron needed help on his Herbology essay," Hermione said slowly. 

"Right," said Draco. "Well, we're going to go upstairs now. And sleep. In our beds. Yes.”

Ron nodded and quickly continued his essay. Hermione grinned at Harry.

"Since when do you sleep upstairs now?" Harry asked as they walked up the stairs. 

Draco shrugged. "Thought I might want to try it for just one night. Plus, the sofa was beginning to hurt my back." 

When they reached their dormitory door, Harry gave Draco one last kiss goodnight. "Night, Draco."

"Goodnight, Harry."

 

•••

 

Draco needed to pee. He tossed his blankets aside and made his way to the nearest loo. 

As he washed his hands, he felt a sudden strong, tingling sensation on his forearm. Curious, he held it up to the light and gasped. He walked away from the sink, tripping over his own feet. His butt slammed into the stone floor, his heart pounding.

Eyes wide as Sickles, panting slightly, he stared at the cherry colored H that had appeared on his skin overnight. 

"Oh, fuck."

 

•••

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. V

 

" _So_ ," said Ginny, sliding onto the bench next to Harry, "you and Malfoy, huh?"

Harry blushed and kept his eyes fixed onto his steak and kidney pie. "What about us?"

"A little birdie told me they say you two-" Ginny gasped melodramatically- "holding hands and maybe even _kissing_  last week." 

"Maybe we did." Harry's eyes now migrated to his shoes. They needed a wash. 

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny said. "You're bright red, Harry!" She laughed under her breath. 

"Piss off, Ginny." Harry felt his cheek. Merlin, he could fry an egg on his face. Draco had him whipped. 

"Why aren't you in the kitchens with him?" Ginny aaked.

"He wasn't there," said Harry. "Probably in the Hospital Wing again."

"Didn't use your map to stalk him this time?" Ginny smirked playfully at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No. I trust him. Besides, where else would he be at this time?"

 

•••

 

Draco reached out a hand. Slowly, he inched forward and gently touched the big brass handle. He was surprised that it wasn't burning hot but instead cool and smooth. 

The door looked the same too. It was almost as if the fire had never happened.

Almost. 

He wasn't even aware that he had been pacing in front of it at first. He had only been searching for a quiet place to pace (and scream). Then, out of nowhere, he heard the familiar crumbling of the stone walls as the Room of Requirement appeared before him. 

Draco opened the door and walked into a small, round room. A posh sofa sat next to a nightstand. There was a cup full of thin black straws on top of it. 

Ever since he was little, Draco had a habit of chewing on things when he was nervous: his bottom lip, his fingernails, and plastic straws. It relaxed him. 

And right now, Draco was very nervous. His mother had owled him two days ago, informing him that they were to visit his father today. Neither of them knew about the Mark on his wrist. He hoped it stayed that way. Nightmares of his father smashing through Azkaban's stone walls with his bare hands and skinning Draco's right forearm down to the bone plagued him at night. 

He plucked a few straws from the cup and chewed them until they were pale and broken. 

 

•••

 

Harry was walking to the Library to study with Ron and Hermione when somebody grasped his hand suddenly. Recognizing the touch at once, he smiled and turned to face his boyfriend. 

"Hey," he said. He then frowned. "Draco, are you okay? You look sick."

Draco smiled weakly. "I'm fine. Just...Mother and I. We are going to Azkaban today. To visit my father. First time I'll be seeing him since the trials."

Harry squeezed Draco's hand. "Holy shit. When are you leaving?"

"In exactly twenty-seven minutes." Draco had begun to chew his lower lip. 

"Hey," Harry said. "You're going to be okay. He's wandless and behind bars. He can't hurt you." He got on his tip toes and kissed Draco. "Trust me: everything is going to be fine." 

"Can I get another kiss? Just for luck?" 

Harry threw his head back and laughed. "You're such a fucking sap." Nevertheless, he gave him a long kiss. He began to walk away, but Draco tugged him back.

"And walk me to the train station?" 

"I was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at the library."

"They'll be there when you get back, Harry," Draco persisted. 

Harry rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Alright, fine." 

They walked in comfortable silence through the couple inches of snow leftover from last night. When they arrived, they stopped a few yards from the platform. Narcissa's blonde hair and green robes stood out against the white and brown background. 

"I'll be waiting in the Common Room for you when you get back," Harry said. Draco nodded. 

They kissed good-bye, and Harry watched until the train was no longer visible.

 

•••

 

Draco shivered and wrapped his coat around him tighter. Azkaban was freezing during the summer; in the early winter your breath nearly turned to ice cubes in mid air. 

If it wasn't for the rythmetic tapping his mother's finger did the whole ride there, Draco would have thought she had actually been frozen by the winds. She was sitting completely still, her eyes fixed on the tea stain on the seat across from them. 

"We've arrived," said the female Auror assigned to see them there and back. They would be handed over to the Dementors once inside. One of the guards would cast a Patronus to keep them from having their souls sucked out. 

Draco swallowed the bile in his mouth thickly. Making sure his wrist was completely covered, he stood and followed the Auror to the entrance. 

"You will get a total of one hour for your visit," she explained. "The only reason we haven't confiscated your wands is because you might need to defend yourselves from the more violent inmates or the Dementors. We can't have more deaths here; the paperwork is _horrendous_."

Draco huffed. Typical. They didn't give a flying fuck if either of them died. They would probably snap photographs and dance if the Demontors Kissed them. 

He felt the Dementor's effect on him immediately. Every happy memory and thought was sucked out of his brain. He felt the audden urge to bury himself in one of the snowbanks and suffocate to death.

His breathing quickened nervously as they walked down the cellblock. Prisoners jeered at him, showing him their middle fingers or yellow teeth when they sneered. 

Finally, at the end of the row, Draco saw him. His father. Panic blossomed in his stomach and writhed around like a snake.

"Your one hour starts now," the Auror informed them. "Good luck."

Draco's feet wouldn't move. Despite the cold, sweat dotted his forehead. 

"C'mon, Draco," whispered Narcissa. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your father's waiting." She nudged him. 

Draco shook his head gently and inched forward. When he arrived at his father's cell, he sighed heavily and looked up at him. 

Lucius looked terrible. He was no longer the handsome and composed man that Draco had always known. His hair was long and wild and so caked with filth it looked almost brown. He needed a shave, and his eyes darted around the room like a madman's. 

"Narcissa. Draco." His voice, unlike his composure, was calm and collected. That unnerved Draco more than the Dementors standing four yards away from them.

"Lucius," Narcissa said to her husband. She reached out a hand to clasp his. "I'm-I'm so sorry. This was the best deal we could get you. We thought it was better than the Dementor's Ki-"

"Spare me your groveling, Narcissa," interrupted Lucius. "Don't waste our time here." 

Narcissa nodded, wiping the cold tears from her face.

While Draco stood to the side, ignored, his mother informed his father of who had been captured, who was dead, and other nonsense. 

"Ugh," Draco said. His right arm had been itchy all day. "Granger's cat got into our dorms again."

He rolled his sleeve up to his elbow and scratched himself without thinking. His father chose that moment to acknowledge his prescence. Lucius's nostrils flared like a dragon and his eyes widened for a split second before he turned back towards his wife. 

Draco, confused, looked down at his arm. All the oxygen left his lungs. He had forgotten about the Mark. It was very visible, even with the red streaks his fingernails had made. 

"Narcissa, darling," Lucius said suddenly. "Could I have a moment alone with Draco?"

Narcissa, looking a bit miffed that she had been interrupted, nodded. She looked at Draco and cocked her head towards Lucius, instructing her son to walk closer before she walked back to the entrance. Her heels made echoes bounce off the stone walls. 

Terror clawed at Draco's insides, tearing his skin and bones to shreds. He thought his heart might burst from beating so hard. 

"Show me your arm," Lucius commanded. His voice was dangerously quiet. 

Gradually, Draco lifted his arm until it was directly in front of his father's eyes. He made the mistake of looking up. Anger was etched into every centimeter of Lucius's face; his knuckles were white from being tightly clenched.

"Who is she?"

Draco didn't answer. 

"Is it a pureblood?"

Draco shook his head.

"Goddammit, Draco!" Lucius slammed his palms against the wall to his left. "You were supposed to court and marry Astoria. You were supposed to produce a pureblood heir! Not go and get mooney-eyed over some other filthy Mudblood girl!"

"It isn't a girl." The words slipped through Draco's lips before he could stop them. 

"What did you say?"

"I said, it isn't a girl." Draco lifted his chin defiantely as Harry's words from that morning came back to him. His father couldn't hurt him. He would never be free from prison to harm Draco ever again. "It's a fucking man. Surprise, father. I'm gay."

"Who is he? Huh? Who the _fuck_ is he, Draco?" Lucius was almost shouting at him now. His face had gone tomato red.

"Harry Potter." Just saying his boyfriend's name filled Draco with warmth and courage. The Dementors started gliding away from him slowly. 

"I'm in love with Harry sodding Potter," Draco said shakily. He stuck out his chin and glared at his father defiantly. "And there's nothing you can do about it, _father_." He spat the last word out as if it were poison. 

"The hell I can!" Fast as lightning, Lucius reached out and plucked Draco's wand from his back pocket. He backed into his cell, out of reach from Draco's desperate hands. 

"Give me back my wand!"

"No! I won't have my only son being a disgusting little blood traitor." He pointed his son's wand at Draco's left eyebrow. "You will go back to Hogwarts. Once you get there, you will end whatever you and the Potter boy have."

"No. Stop this." Draco bobbed and weaved, but Lucius's arm followed him. 

"You will break his heart and forget all about him!"

"No! I won't do it!" There was a tingling behind Draco's eyeballs. His emotions were becoming clouded. He was losing control of his own mind.

"You _will_ court Astoria."

"Stop this! Please, father!" Draco begged. 

"Stop resisting, Draco," said Lucius. "When will you see that love is a disease? Especially if it's for somebody dirty like Potter."

"Father, stop this!" Draco's hands snapped upwards and clutched his head. He clawed at his hair, trying to scrape away Lucius's magic. He squeezed his eyes, trying to shut his father out.

And suddenly, it was over. Draco stood still, his face slack and his eyes blank. 

Satisfied, Lucius lowered his wand arm and said, "You know what you have to do, don't you, Draco?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, father. I must forget about Potter. He is nothing to me."

Lucius smiled coldly. "Good." He handed Draco his wand back and watched his son walk to his mother's side. 

 

•••

 

Harry couldn't sit still. He kept looking at his watch, tugging on his curls, or tapping his knee. He was anxious for Draco to come back. He wanted to hear how the visit had gone. 

Everytime somebody opened the Common Room door, his head snapped towards it. He was very disappointed everytime it wasn't Draco. 

Finally, after he had been gone for almost four hours, Draco walked through the door. Harry's mood instantly brightened. 

"Draco!" He waved him over to his chair. 

"How was your trip?" Harry asked. 

Draco shrugged. "Uneventful, really. Mother did most of the talking. I have to tell you something."

Harry was thrown by the sudden change of topic. "Oh. Um. Sure. Go ahead." 

"We can't see each other anymore."

Harry blinked. He must not have heard him correctly. 

"C-can you repeat that?" He asked.

"We can't see each other anymore, Potter. This thing between us is over for good." 

Hot tears stung in Harry's eyes. He didn't understand...

"Draco, I...I don't understand." Harry stood up. Draco backed away from him. "We were fine this morning...w-what changed? Was it something I did or said?"

Draco shook his head. "I was merely using you, all this time. I never wanted your friendship or this relationship; I only needed your protection."

"N-no." Harry's hands were shaking. "You don't mean that. I know you don't, Draco." 

Draco frowned slightly. "I do mean that."

Harry didn't understand how Draco could look so normal while every word stung him like a knife.

"No. We had- _have_ something. I know we do."

Draco sneered nastily at him. "You're so naive. Nothing I told you was real. Did you seriously think that I would _ever_ love you? You mean nothing to me, Potter."

"You...you don't mean that."

"Of course I do, Potter."

Harry was sobbing, tears splashing onto the front of his T-shirt. "Where is this all of this coming from, Draco? W-we were fine this morning!"

"On the way back from Azkaban, I simply realized I didn't need you anymore. You've fulfilled your purpose. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to eat dinner. Don't follow me." He began walking towards the door.

"Draco, wait!" Harry ran after him, almost tripping over Crookshanks. He grabbed Draco's arm and yanked him backwards, turning him to face him. 

"Draco, I know you feel what I feel," Harry said in between sobs. "Please, this isn't you. I...I love you."

Draco shoved Harry forcefully. He fell onto his arse and hit his head on an armchair. 

"I don't love you," Draco snapped. "Forget everything that happened between us these past months and leave me alone. I won't ask you nicely again."

"Draco-" Harry tried getting up, but Draco whipped out his wand and aimed it at the tip of Harry's nose. Harry flinched.

"Leave me alone," he said. "Don't talk to me or go looking for me. I better not see you in the kitchens during meals. We _aren't_ friends, and if you try to be my friend or more than that, I _will_ hex you."

And with that, Draco thrust the door open and left Harry with his head in his hands, crying his heart out on the Common Room floor.

 

•••

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry :))


	7. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: PTSD/panic attack and attempted sexual assault

 

Harry's eyes stung from crying so much. The skin surrounding them had been rubbed raw and red from his constant wiping away of tears. 

He had been kneeling on the floor of the common room for almost twenty minutes now, bawling. Even though he was Captain, he skipped Quidditch practice. Not even flying could mend his broken heart.

Hermione had found him after dinner. Appalled, she forced him up and he, Hermione, and Ginny were now sitting in their hidden room behind the tapestry.

"I'm going to rip his face off," Ginny snarled once Harry had finished telling the story. 

Tentatively, Hermione reached out a hand to lower Ginny's raised arm. "I don't think Molly would like us very much if we let you go to Azkaban mid way through your final year at school."

"I don't care," snapped Ginny. "He can't just do this to Harry and get away with it! That slimy little son of a bitch!"

"We aren't going to do anything to him," said Hermione. "Calm down, please, Ginny. You're going to make Harry even more distressed," she added in a whisper. 

The two girls glanced over at Harry. Fortunately, he had stopped crying. Unfortunately, his face quivered like the waterworks might start up again at any given moment.

"Sorry," Ginny whispered back. She scooted closer to Harry and gently placed her hand on his arm. 

"Hey," she said to him, her voice low, "sorry about all the yelling just now. I know this is hard for you." 

Harry sniffed. "I...I just don't understand. He was being so...clingy and loving right before he left." He wiped his nose on his sleeve, Hermione conjured and passed him a handkerchief, and he continued:

"It's just so...strange. Something must have happened to him while he was gone. He-he wouldn't do this to me."

Ginny's eyes flicked up to meet Hermione's. 

"Harry," said Hermione. "You know what... _he's_ like. How can you be sure he wasn't lying about...using you?"

"You don't know him like I do!" Harry shouted hotly. "After everything he told me, everything we did together, everything I've done for him, he wouldn't do this to me!"

"Harry, all I'm saying is," said Hermione, "are you sure your love for him hasn't blinded you to the truth? That he really did only used you for protection?"

"You're wrong, Hermione!" Harry jumped to his feet, facing Hermione. 

"Harry-" Ginny tried to intervene, but Harry put his hand up to stop her. 

"I know you agree with her, Ginny. But you're both wrong about...about him." Harry's voice wavered; he had almost said _his_ name. "Something happened when he went to Azkaban; he was different when he came back, I could tell. I didn't ask for your criticism and ridicule; I asked you two for help! So will you stop fucking telling me I'm wrong!"

If Harry wasn't so angry and confused, he would have apologized to Hermione. Her eyebrows knitted together, her expression wounded. 

A distraction arrived in the shape of Ronald Weasley. Pulling back the talestry, he paused when he saw them. 

"Hey," he said. "Why are you all down here?"

"Just having a chat," responded Ginny. 

"Why weren't you at practice, mate?" He asked Harry. "Were you with Malfoy?"

Hermione signaled for Ron to shut his mouth. Ron, puzzled, asked, "What? Did they have a row or something? A lover's quarrel?"

Harry sat down, trembling, as Ginny pulled Ron outside by his arm to give him a brief explanation.

 

•••

 

_Harry was sprinting, breatheless, jumping over rocks and tree roots and anything else he might trip over...somewhere behind him and to his right, he heard Hermione casting curses behind him...he couldn't see Ron, but he heard him yell out a hex...the trio caught up with each other and so did the Snatchers...Hermione pointed her wand at Harry's face...The dream shifted, and Harry tried waking himself up but failed..._

_He was at Hogwarts now, but something was wrong...students and teachers and Order members where running or duelling or falling to the ground, dead...there was fire and rubble everywhere he turned...Harry's heart rate increased dangerously both in the dream and in real life...he ran, his bestfriends beside him, and almost tripped over a body that was too young and too small to die so soon...a shock of cold went through him as he saw Dementors somewhere to his far left...he heard a bloodcurdling scream but he couldn't look back, no he had to keep running...and the dream changed again..._

_Harry was in the Forbbiden Forrest now, Voldemort and his black clad followers facing him eagerly...Harry closed his eyes, his parents and Sirius and Remus's faces fresh in his mind as he faced death...Voldemort had raised his wand, but he was Draco Malfoy now, and he shouted "Avada Kedavra!"...Harey saw nothing but lime green light..._

Stiffling a scream, Harry sat up in bed. His shirt and hair clung to his skin thanks to sweat. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down, but the images replayed in his mind. He clung to the bedposts, his lungs feeling as if somebody was squeezing them in their fist. 

Desperate, Harry looked over at Draco's empty bed. He swallowed hard and blinked rapidly to force back his tears. 

His first panic attack/nightmare since the break up six days ago. He had only had three during the school year, but not as bad as this one. He always had somebody to help him. Recently, that person had become Draco Malfoy. He would cradle his head and pull his body against him, enveloping him in his warmth. Sometimes he would talk to him, other times he simply stroked his hair untill Harry fell back asleep. 

As Harry laid back down, silent tears running down his hot face, his heart hurt as he realised he didn't have Draco to calm him down this time.

 Or possibly ever again.

 

•••

 

Draco's cloak flapped around his snow caked shoes as he made his way to the small clearing where he had met Astoria weeks earlier. He was on another Hogsmeade visit, and he had asked Astoria to meet with him for another talk. She happily agreed.

He sat down on the giant boulder and only had to wait a short amount of time before he heard footsteps behind him. He whipped his head around. Astoria stood behind him, snowflakes standing out against her dark curls, her lavendar coat bundled around her tight. 

"Draco." She smiled fondly at him. Draco reached out a hand and she took it in hers and squeezed before taking a seat beside him. 

"I heard you and your mother visited your father a couple weeks ago," she said. "How was it?" 

"We didn't talk much," said Draco. As he spoke, he inched his hand closer to her thigh. "It was mostly him and mum talking. But I don't want to talk about my father right now."

"You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable, Draco." Astoria stiffened just a smidge when Draco rested his hand on her thigh, but she kept the conversation going. "You haven't mentioned Harry Potter in your most recent letters. I want to know more about what's happening with you two." 

Draco had scooted closer to Astoria. She didn't think anything of this; after all, they had been friends for almost a decade now. 

"Potter isn't important right now," Draco said. "I want to talk about me and you."

"Is everything all right, Draco?" Astoria shifted uncomfortably. "You seem different today." 

"Everything is fine, Astoria," Draco said. 

"Okay," Astoria said uncertaintly. "So, tell me about you and Har- Draco, what the hell are you doing?"

Draco and Astoria were now sitting so close together that they looked as if they were glued together at the hip and shoulders. Astoria slid off the rock to stand. Draco followed suit. He stepped closer to her, and Astoria walked backwards. 

"Draco," she said. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Of course I'm feeling okay," Draco responded, slightly irritated. This was taking too long; he needed to change his approach. 

"I think I should head back home now," Astoria said. "It was...nice talking to you, Draco."

Draco didn't say anything. He just kept following Astoria.

Astoria had backed up into a tree. Scared, she turned her head to the side and Draco took this as an opportunity. He surged forward, hands out-stretched, and held Astoria by her hips against the tree and began kissing her fiercely. 

Astoria whimpered in protest and tried to shove Draco's weight off of her, but Draco planted his feet and kept kissing her. Astoria stepped on his foot, and he stopped kissing her. 

"Draco, what the hell are you doing?" Astoria was moving around, her desperate eyes searching for an exit. "Get off of me."

"I want you, Astoria," Draco said. "We should get married, just like you've always wanted. We can have a son, an heir to the Malfoy name." 

"You _never_ wanted all that, Draco," Astoria said. "That's what your father always wanted, not you."

"Well, I saw he was right." Draco had started kissing her neck. "I want you, Astoria, right now."

"Stop this. Draco, you're gay." Astoria was still squirming beneath him. She pushed his face back off of hers. "You like men, and you're dating Harry."

"I broke up with Harry for you."

"You-what?"

Draco had paused to catch his breath, and Astoria seized her chance. She stomped on Draco's foot, hard, pushed him onto his ass, and pulled her wand on him. 

"Astoria-"

"No, Draco, shut the hell up!" Astoria advanced on him. Draco crawled backwards.

"Something is wrong with you," she said. "You tried to force yourself onto me, when you're fucking gay, and you never gave a shit about what your father wanted for your future." 

Draco tried to stand up, but Astoria jabbed her wand at his face forcefully. The tip of her wand glowed bright orange. Draco's head felt like it was filled with static electricity. 

"What are you doing to me, Astoria?" Draco asked. "Please, just let me stand up. Let me convince you that I'm right. We can-gah!" He clutched his head with his hands. His brain felt like somebody was picking it apart with a fork and knife.

"I knew it," Astoria said, completely ignoring his pain. "I knew you had been hexed. You're under the Imperius Curse."

"You don't know what you're talking about," spat Draco. "Who would Imperius me and why?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," Asroria said. "I would say I'm sorry about this, Draco, but you did sexually assualt me five minutes ago. Just...be warned." She flicked her wand. The numbness in Draco's head intensified; it felt like his thoughts were fighting themselves and flinging each other against the walls of his skull. His eyes felt like they were going to melt and dribble out of his eye sockets. Draco thrashed and fell onto his back, all the while Astoria stepped closer to him, wand aimed at his forehead. 

"This is bloody strong," Astoria muttered. Her wand tip glowed brighter. The sensation in Draco's head grew more and more intense.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut. As quickly as it began, it stopped. When he opened his eyes again, it felt as if a hot spike had been removed from his forehead. He gave a great sigh of relief.

Memories began flooding back to him: Harry's tear-stained face looking up at him, walking from class to class to meal to class to Common Room robotically, forcing himself onto his best friend. 

Astoria's wand arm was at her side. She peered at him cautiously. Quickly, Draco stood up and immediately wrapped Astoria in a fierce hug. She tensed up at first, but eventually relaxed and hugged him back. 

"I am so sorry, Astoria," Draco said. He rested his head on her shoulder, ashamed of himself. "Please forgive me. Please." 

"Of course I forgive you," Astoria said. She pulled back and looked up at Draco's face. "You were Imperiused. Do you remember who did it? And when?" 

Draco gulped. "It was my father. I went to visit him in Azkaban with mother. He...he saw the Mark on my arm and became angry. I told him I was gay and that I was dating Harry. He stole my wand from my pocket and Imperiused me." 

"Your Mark?" Astoria asked. "Do you mean...?"

Draco rolled up his sleeve and showed her the vibrant cursive H on his wrist. As Astoria gaped at it, something dawned on him. 

"Harry," he said. "Oh, Merlin. Astoria, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad." He placed his head in his hands, guilt beating his insides to a bloody pulp.

"You said you broke up with Harry," Astoria said. "I thought you were lying, but you really-"

"-Not just that. I told him he meant nothing to me. I told him...I told him that I didn't love him."

Astoria, pity written all over her face, placed a hand on Draco's arm. "Merlin. I'm so sorry, Draco. What are you going to do to fix it?"

"Fix it?" Draco asked incredulously. "Astoria, I don't think I can.”

"Of course you can, Draco. He forgave you after the war and the trials, so why not now?”

But Draco shook his head firmly. "I yelled at him and shoved him onto the floor. I told him some shitty things after he told me he loved me. Would _you_ forgive me if I did that to you?"

"No, but you were under the Imperius curse," Astoria said. "Explain that to him. Tell him it was all your father. He knows who your father is, what he's capable of. I'm sure he will understand." 

"And what if he doesn't?"

Astoria gathered both of his hands in hers. "Draco, I know he cares about you immensely."

"Probably not anymore," Draco muttered.

"Don't interrupt me. As I was saying, he's a good man. He _will_ understand. Just promise me you'll at least try and talk to him."

Draco sighed and said, "Okay. I promise."

“If you don’t, I will hex you stupid and tell him myself.”

“Merlin, Astoria. I promise.”

 

•••

 

"Harry! Harry, please turn around! Please look at me!”

Harry could hear Draco shouting his name down the hallway, but he didn't care. He kelt his head down and surged forward through the crowd, Hermione and Ron on his heels. 

"Malfoy's calling you," Ron, ever observant, said. 

"I know," Harry said bitterly.

"He's literally right behind us," Ron said. 

"I know," Harry repeated. 

“He’s here.”

"Harry!" Draco grabbed Harry's sleeve and tugged. Harry whirled around, annoyed. He shook his former lover’s hand off his robes.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He spat. 

Draco, who was thrown off at being addressed as Malfoy rather than Draco, stuttered: "I...can-can we talk? Please? In private?"

"Why? Come to yell at me and push me again?"

"What? No, I just want to talk. I want to explain some of the stuff I said to you. I want...to apologize to you."

"Harry doesn't want to talk to you right now," Ron jumped in.

"Or ever again," muttered Hermione.

Students had begun to stare at the four of them, nosily. Hermione flashed her Prefect badge and told them to move along.

"Please, Harry," Draco pleaded, "just give me five minutes. After that, if you want to, you can leave and never talk to me again. Just hear me out."

Harry stared at Draco for a while. Draco's hands fidgeted nervously before Harry finally said, "Fine, Malfoy. Five minutes. Hermione and Ron come with me, though."

"Of course." 

Harry and Ron and Hermione started walking, and Draco scrambled to catch up to them. They led him to a ripped tapestry. Draco was surprised when Hermione pushed it aside and held it open for the other three. Behind it there was a comfortablely sized room and a staircase that only led up. 

"Secret passageway to Gryffindor Tower," Hermione explained. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Draco. "Your five minutes start now. Start explaining."

Draco exhaled hard. "Harry, I am so, so, so, _so_ sorry for what I said two weeks ago when I...when I broke up with you. I didn't mean any of it. It-it wasn't me speaking."

"It wasn't you?" Harry repeated sarcastically. He raised his eyebrows coolly. 

Draco nodded. 

"Because it looked like you. It sounded like you. But since you _say_ it wasn't you, I guess it really wasn't you." Harry raised his eyebrows. "So who was it then? Was it your identical twin? Or did you give somebody Polyjuice Potion to look just like you?"

Draco winced. Harry's words stung him like knife wounds. 

"It was me, but it wasn't me talking. I was Imperiused by my father."

The trio simply stared at him. 

"You have four minutes left," Ron deadpanned.  

"You have to believe me," Draco begged. Suddenly, an idea came to him. He pulled his wand out of his trouser pocket. Ron and Harry and Hermione drew their wands immediately. Draco held his hands up like a fugitive cornered by police.

"Here." He placed his wand on the floor and slid it over to them with his foot. "Check it with _Priori Incantatem_. My father used it when he Imperiused me during our visit." 

While the boys kept their wands pointed at Draco, Hermione picked up his wand with her thumb and index finger and pointed her own wand at it. A variety of spells played out in smoke coming from the tip of Draco's wand: _Accio_ (Draco had gotten too lazy to get his books from the Common Room while he studied in the library), he had repared one of his quills, and had used the shield charm many times (Harry was not around to protect him from oncoming attacks anymore). The rest were spells learned in class or practiced as homework. 

Finally, the Imperius Curse showed up. Hermione waved her hand through the smoke to end the spell. 

"How do we know that you didn't cast that spell on somebody else?" Ron asked him. "Or cast that spell yesterday so that we would believe you?" 

Draco opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with an explanation. But, to his surprise, Hermione Granger vouched for him. 

"He can't have done it this morning or even yesterday," she said. 

"Why not?" inquired Harry.

"The order of the spells is consistent with what we've been learning in class," Hermione explained. "There's also so many spells after  _Imperio_ that it adds up to at least the amount of spells one would cast in roughly two weeks." 

Draco could have kissed her if he wasn't a homosexual. 

“So, he isn’t lying?” Rob asked. 

Hermione shook her head. 

Harry looked at Draco hopefully. "Can you give us a moment alone?" He said to Ron and Hermione.

"Mate, are you sure?" Ron raised his eyebrows at Draco. 

Harry nodded. "You two can go study or have sex or whatever."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she grabbed her boyfriend's hand and exited the room. 

As soon as they were gone, Harry slowly walked over to Draco. 

"What you said that day in the common room. You didn't mean any of it? At all?" He asked quietly. 

Draco shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Harry," repeated Harry. "I knew something was wrong with you. You called me Potter." 

"I did. And I insulted you. And I pushed you. Merlin, Harry, I am so sorry."

Harry chuckled. He opened his mouth, but Draco interrupted him. 

"There's something else, too," he said. "I...I want to show you something."

"Go ahead." 

Draco swallowed, nervousness boiling in his stomach, and before he could change his mind, he rolled up his right sleeve and showed Harry his right wrist. He waited for a reaction. 

Harry stared at it, eyes wide, for a few moments. Then he traced the Letter with his finger, as if making sure it was indeed very real. 

"You...you love me?" He asked, his voice small. 

Draco nodded. "As soon as Astoria lifted the Imperius Curse, I realised what I had said, and I felt horrible. I knew I had to apologise and tell you that...that I love you."

Harry instantly grabbed Draco's face with his hands and pulled his lips down to his. Draco kissed back immediately. He had missed the sensation of Harry lips against his. He opened his mouth, and Harry slid his tongue in for a bit before pulling back. Draco chased his lips and managed to steal one last kiss before he rested his forehead on the other man's. 

"I love you, too," Harry whispered. Draco could feel his warm breath against his lips everytime he spoke and exhaled.

"You don't have to say it if you don't mean it," Draco said quickly. "Just because I showed you my Mark doesn't mean-"

"-Wait, hang on," Harry interrupted. "Why wouldn't you think I love you?"

"Why would you love me?" Draco asked in a small voice. He felt Harry grab his chin and lifted it slightly until he could look up into his grey eyes. 

Draco was surprised when instead of pity or sorrow there was adoration in Harry's eyes. 

"Why wouldn't I love you?"

Draco shrugged. He didn’t want to meet Harry’s eyes. "I was a dick to you and your friends for the past seven years. Shit, I was a Death Eater for a year. I held you hostage at my house last spring. I did terrible things in the Battle. Why would you love somebody like...like me?"

"Draco, you've been through so much shit in your life. But you don't let that define you. Most people would be bitter assholes if they went through a quarter of what you did. Yes, you were a dick these past few years, but I know how good of a person you are."

"I'm not a good person," Draco insisted. 

"No?" Harry asked. "Draco, look at me.”

When Draco looked him in the eyes, Harry said, “You calmed me down and still loved me after seeing me during my late night panic attacks. I haven't heard you say anything snarky about Hermione and Ron in weeks. You even helped me with my homework and didn't jinx me even before we were friends."

"That doesn't undo all the harm I've done."

"It doesn't, true, but you've changed, Draco. You're a good person, always were, and I love you." Harry pushed back his sleeve to show Draco his first initial etched on his wrist. 

"I'm not just saying it because you did. I truly love you." 

Draco's eyes were suddenly wetter than normal. He blinked rapidly and asked, "Can you say that again?"

"Say what?"

"You love me."

Harry chuckled. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Draco. "Draco Malfoy, I love you." 

As they exited the room, hand in hand, to make their way to the kitchens, Draco said something he thought he would never say in his life: "Harry Potter, I love you, too."

 

•••

 

 

 


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